Previously at O'Malley's
by BrenRenQoI
Summary: A missing scene that takes place just before "Upgrades" in which Sam and Jack with a little help from Daniel set the stage at O'Malley's for the big brawl in the episode. UPDATED 12/07: Part Three Posted--One last part to go...
1. Chapter 1

Previously at O'Malley's

By Bren Ren

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Summary: The last time the trio went to O'Malley's before the night they got tossed out during the episode "Upgrades", they had set the stage for that brawl with a night more memorable than even the big fight itself.

Category: Missing Scene, UST

Rating: Teen + (Lots of Innuendo!)

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. They still aren't mine, but I'm still playing with them anyway. I'll put them back better than I found them!

Author's Note: I've been scuba diving in the deep end of the gutter today, and a certain screencap inspired this little scene. It is utterly impossible to do anything but appease the muse when she gets worked up over a story like this, so here it is…

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Part One

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They already had a reputation long before that fateful day they trashed the place in one of the biggest brawls in this rowdy pub's history. It was a mixed one, but their faces were certainly known.

The bookish geek in the glasses never could hold his liquor, but he usually just got rather silly. He hadn't been in anyone's good graces since that night he crafted, on the pool table, with chalk, billiard balls and a few strategically placed darts, an entire Mayan temple.

Then there was the brooding old war-horse, the Colonel. That man could hold his liquor. He was as quick with a joke as a caustic barb, and he'd foiled his share of disgruntled pool-sharks in his time at this lively establishment. Very few truly challenged him, but he was never one to back down. And to the disappointment of both the waitresses and the single female patrons (and a few of the not-so-single), he only had eyes for the blonde, leggy, knock-'em-dead gorgeous lady soldier that occasionally joined the men.

She had military written all over her, but in a very good way. There was no denying, she wore it well. Her cool confidence intimidated most of her would-be pursuers, and those few bold admirers left never managed to draw her attention away from the equally captivated Colonel.

The night that set the stage for that final brawl was probably more memorable than the big ruckus that ended their patronage once and for all.

To his credit, the academic guy had settled his debt for the damage to the pool table, and he began the evening humble and awkwardly sheepish. The Colonel even began the night in a rare good mood, jovially wagering how long it would be before the light-weight spilled his first drink.

And then she came in. Dressed to kill.

Her timing was flawless. The music had just stopped as she walked inside. Not one, not two, but three wolf whistles rang out above the noisy crowd, and every head turned to watch five feet nine inches of black-leather-clad blonde bombshell strut in to the slow beat of the fatefully sultry rhythms of "Black Velvet".

She knocked him dead.

Now, this is a bar, one popular with the young armed forces so prevalent in this area. Naturally, it has born witness to a great many executions of human mating rituals. But never one that charged the atmosphere of the entire room with such raw, high-voltage energy. Seriously. Even the DJ's equipment lit up in a shower of sparks at one point.

Both men rose to full attention as she made her approach. She held his gaze every slow step that brought her nearly toe to toe with him.

The geek was the first to sputter to life. "Uh, Sam, you, uh… you look… uh…"

"Hot… date?" The Colonel filled in with a quirked brow and a sly grin.

Her softly curled short blonde locks fell back from her face as she tilted her chin up with a hint of defiance, her ruby red lips slyly quirking up to match his grin. "Nope. Just felt like being a girl for a change." With that, she took her seat in the corner across from the almost dumbstruck Colonel.

He didn't try to hide his slow, thorough, toe-to-head visual inspection of the stunning woman as she turned to give him her undivided attention. "Far be it from me to complain," he said at last, his low voice barely audible over the thrumming bass of the music. She gave him one of those million-megawatt beams that always set the boys' tongues wagging, and he was obviously struggling to keep his own confined.

With that opening gambit set, she ordered her drink, and the verbal sparring match ensued.

The knock-out kicked it off. "So, you look well-rested. How was the fishing trip?"

"It was all right," said the silver fox.

"Only all right?" Her lips formed the tiniest bit of a pout.

"Well, you know how it is." The man was practically leering now. "You can only have so much fun fishing by yourself."

The pout disappeared into a teasing grin. "Well, maybe one of these days, I'll let you convince me to join you."

"You could just ask." There was a definite challenge in his voice.

And she wasn't backing down. "That would be way too easy."

"Yes, and when has anything ever been easy for us?" Now he was falling back on his more customary sardonic tone.

"I've always loved a good, hard challenge." It's hard to say which had him swallowing harder, the teasing tone of voice or her slow wink.

And then the music changed. The tempo was a little faster as the bass notes chased down the scale in the opening measures of a sexy little number called "Stray Cat Strut". She sat up a little straighter and her eyes drifted shut as she began moving with the rhythm.

"I've always loved this song," she said as she lifted heavy eyelids to connect with his gaze. "And I want to dance." Her gaze flickered over to the four-eyed guy who was trying (and failing) to build a pyramid out of the drinks menus and bottles, and back to her much sexier companion. "And I don't think I want to risk my feet with twinkle-toes over there… So it's either you…" She trailed off for a moment, holding his eyes with a challenging invitation. Then she cast her glance to the side, towards the bar full of attentive young men who hadn't yet taken their eyes off her. "Or one of them." She returned her stare to the only man she had any real interest in.

He never broke her stare as he stood up and extended a hand out to her. She took it and led him out to the dance floor. They looked great together out there, moving easily through the slow swinging beat of the bluesy number. They left only enough space between their bodies for a modicum of decency, but they easily redefined the phrase "dirty dancing". The temperature in the bar shot up several noticeable degrees over the course of that number. When they finished in an impossibly close, tight clench, the entire viewing audience broke out in cheers.

And that's when trouble began—with a capital "T" and three exclamation points...

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	2. Chapter 2

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Part Two

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It began innocently enough, with a request for the next dance with the lovely lady by a strapping off-duty Marine. His predatory grin should have warned her off, but she must have really needed to feel like a girl that night, judging by the way that she spun away from the disappointed Colonel with a teasing smile, into the eagerly waiting arms of the grunt. As they boogied away to the seductive groove of "Fever", the Colonel stalked away from the dance floor; the crowd quickly cleared a broad path for his brooding exit.

Unfortunately, the thick-skulled Marine got a little too grabby, and before he knew what happened, he was flat on his back on the dance floor with a four inch heel at his throat. All of his earlier victims—or rather, dance partners—applauded as the tough lady made clear, in no uncertain terms, how any further examples of such Neanderthal behavior would be dealt with. She made him sweat for a moment longer than really necessary, scanning the gratitude-filled faces of the women in the crowd until her cool, proud gaze was caught and held by one highly satisfied Colonel, before finally granting the humiliated jarhead mercy and extracting her stiletto-clad foot from his neck. Still locking horns with the Colonel across the room, she began moving with the music once more.

They really should have left then, but apparently the lady's fun was just beginning.

She continued to tease the Colonel from the dance floor through two more songs before she joined the men back at the table. A moment later, their server came and took their orders. The Colonel nearly choked on his Guinness when this too-hot-for-words woman informed him that she was dying to eat some good meat, and he set his mug down on the table hard enough to topple the younger guy's latest architectural creation.

Then the hot blonde challenged the Colonel to a round at the pool table, and he was quick to accept, countering her challenge with a friendly wager. They commandeered the last available table and Jack did the honor of racking the balls. With a little gratuitous wiggling of the hips, she took her position at the end of the table and executed a flawless break.

"I always knew you had the potential to be a great ball buster!" The Colonel's teasing remark was accompanied by wicked wink.

"You know what they say," she replied with a wicked wink of her own. "Practice makes perfect!"

"You must have been practicing a lot," the Colonel retorted as he lined up his first shot.

"Every chance I get. And I did grow up an Air Force brat. Know what I like most about this game?"

"Enlighten me."

"I love wrapping my hands around the long, hard wood... cue sticks." She looked quite satisfied as she watched the drop dead gorgeous military man swallow hard a she made that incredibly suggestive remark. The tease was far from enough to throw the man off his game, though. He sunk the ball like a pro in a Top Gun tournament.

It was her turn once more. To sink the ball she set her sights on, she had to hop up onto the corner of the table, which made that leather miniskirt slide dangerously higher up her thighs and exposed a tantalizing length of creamy long legs. She executed her shot with sultry grace, and then sunk two more before finally missing one to give the handsome soldier his next turn.

"That's a tricky shot," she teased as he positioned himself. "If you're not careful, you'll scratch."

He glanced up at her with that wicked little smile of his. "Just gotta nudge it in to the hole," he replied. He returned his attention to the table and gave the white ball a gentle tap with his cue stick. It slowly rolled forward, bumping a striped ball at the edge of a pocket into the waiting hole. The cue ball came to a rest right where the striped one had been. He raised his head and gave her a slow wink.

"Not bad," she commented.

"Not bad?" One eyebrow arched sharply upward. He took quick inventory of the layout on the table. "Double shot. 12 in the corner, 10 in the side pocket."

The woman turned a coolly assessing eye to the table. "Now that would be an impressive shot. If you could make it."

"Don't think I can do it?"

"The odds definitely aren't in your favor," she retorted in a decidedly snarky tone.

"Wanna bet?" The challenge issued from a sly smirk, which was lit by that oh-so-mischievous twinkle that was sure to have the ladies' tongues wagging, including the not-quite-so-cool-and-collected, growing-hotter-by-the-minute blonde.

"Double or nothing?" Her retort was quick and confident—even a little cocky.

This was answered by an alluring waggle of the Colonel's brows. "I had something a little more interesting mind." The lady tipped her head to one side and watched the man swagger (yes, swagger!) over to the jukebox. He flipped through a couple of tabs before trailing one of those deliciously long fingers down to a particular track. "I make the shot, you belt *this* out."

Now it was one of her nicely sculpted brows arching up. "Belt? As in sing?" He nodded, his smirk growing broader by the second. She turned to read the title of the song in question. "She's Got the Jack?"

"Yup." This could easily qualify as the world's largest smirk.

"All right." His smirk suddenly faltered, though, as her own smile turned more than a little wicked. "But if you miss, *you* get to belt *this* one."

His frown only lasted a moment; the second he read the title, that smirk was back with a vengeance. "Deal."

The two sauntered back to the pool table and the Colonel took a careful survey of the table before lining up to take the shot. He pulled back his cue stick, glanced up to wink at her, returned his eyes to the table, and jabbed the cue ball with a hearty crack.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Part Three

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He nailed it. Then he let out a rather loud whoop of victory while the hot blonde's face crumbled with a groan of defeat.

He may have won that battle, but not the war. He missed his next shot, and the woman returned her focus to the game with a vengeance. She cleared the table in a matter of minutes. After sinking the last ball, she sauntered around the table and extended her hand out to the Colonel.

"I'll take my spoils now," she informed him with a wicked grin.

The older man sighed as he extracted his wallet from his back pocket. He pulled out a few bills and placed them in the woman's waiting palm. "Since it looks like our meal is just about to be served, I'll collect my spoils after we eat."

The woman walked over to the bar, while the gracious "loser" meandered back over to the juke box. He paid for several selections with that devilishly sly grin before meeting the blonde with her double-shot of Jack on the rocks at the table.

"Need a little liquid courage there, Carter?" He asked the teasing question with an even more devilish smirk.

"It's the weekend. No early morning briefings, and God willing, no urgent need to save the galaxy. Forgive me if I relax a bit before your little show."

"Show?" This caught the attention of the younger man who had given up on architecture and moved into what might have been modern art.

"The Colonel and I made a bet. I lost."

"And the show…?"

She rolled her eyes; the Colonel smirked. "You'll see."

"This ought to be interesting," he replied, then studiously returned his attention to the sculptured work of cutlery, napkins, and drink menus in front of him.

Compared with the round at the billiard tables, the meal passed by relatively dully, with the noted exception of one interesting and highly charged moment between the increasingly flirtatious military couple that wasn't a couple—but obviously wanted to be. All the lady did was order a drink… but between the name of her chosen cocktail and the suggestive manner with which she placed her order, it's little wonder that the Colonel almost knocked over his Heineken and the geeky guy actually dropped his bottle in his lap with the most amusing mixture of fascinated horror and abject humiliation.

"If I'm really going to give you your little show," she began as their server made her customary check-in, "I need another drink. Something that'll get me in the mood." She paused then to gift her silver-haired companion with a lingering, sultry smile… one he returned shamelessly. "I think what this occasion calls for… is a Red Hot Lover."

Cue comic disaster.

The rest of the meal proceeded without further incident. Just as the goddess in leather swallowed the last of her Red Hot Lover, the opening bluesy strains of "The Jack" began. A hint of panic flickered in her eyes until the Colonel smirked at her with one brow cocked up. A slow sultry smile crept across her face as she rose and walked toward the bar, swinging her hips in time with the rhythm of the music. The battle-hardened war horse kept his eyes glued to her, his expression utterly captivated.

When she reached the bar, she spoke briefly with the bartender, who produced a wireless microphone. She took it in hand just as the first lines of the lyrics began.

"She gave me the Queen," the woman sang, pointing toward an elegant woman in the crowd. "She gave me the King," she continued, gesturing to a brawny Marine. "She was wheelin' and dealin', just doin' her thing." She began to work her way through the room, every step in beat with deliberate suggestion. "She was holdin' a pair," she sang with a waggle of her brow, "But I had to try. Her deuce was wild, but my Ace was high." She continued her promenade through the room, her gaze locked with that of the Colonel. "But how was I to know… that she'd been dealt with before? Said she'd never had a full house, but I should have known…from the tattoo on her left leg," she kicked her left leg out and gave an empty chair a little nudge before she crept toward her companion. "And the garter on her right," she sang, hiking her dangerously short skirt up just enough to see the hint of a lacy garter belt. "She'd have the card to bring me down… if she played it right… She's got the Jack."

As she sang through the chorus, she swaggered her way back to the Colonel, coming to a stop before him as she belted out, "The Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack! She's got the Jack."

Their other companion had gone completely bug-eyed watching her performance, but the Colonel just kept right on smirking at her as she worked her way through the second verse while slowly dancing round that table. When the second chorus began, the majority of the crowd watching joined her in singing the refrain. As she began the final chorus, she worked her way back to the bar, where, to the delight of the crowd and the astonishment of her companions, she climbed up a stool and began dancing her way across the counter through the end of the song. The entire audience erupted in a raucous ovation that had her blushing as she passed the mic back to the bartender and clambered down off the bar. She made her way back to her table, her slight embarrassment giving way to a smug grin as she took her seat.

And then the next song in the cue started up; the moment she recognized it, one perfectly arched brow quirked upward, accompanied by a challenging smirk of her own. Now, considering the performance just given by the lady of the hour, it was no surprise that the audience turned its collective head and held its collective breath in anticipation.

Apparently, this man had also consumed enough "liquid courage" to get him in the mood to keep playing, because as the bass drum beat began kicking, the Colonel shoved his seat back from the table and slowly rose to his feet, beer in hand and teasing smile on lips. Every patron in the place cheered.

The enthralled audience settled into clapping in rhythm with the music. "I'm ever upper class high society," he began, taking a sip of his beer with his slender pinky extended outward, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. "God's gift to ballroom notoriety," he continued, gesticulating to the room. "And I always fill my ballrooms; the event is never small. The social pages say I've got the biggest balls of all!"

He strutted about the room a bit through the chorus, never wandering too far from his table as the audience belted out the final line of the chorus with him.

"My balls are always bouncing, my ballroom always full" he continued reciting with the next verse as he walked back towards the knock-out babe. "And everybody comes and comes again," he drawled as he leaned in close to her. "If your name is on the guest list, no one can take you higher," he chanted, extending a hand out and pulling the woman to her feet—right up against his immovable form. "Everybody says I've got great balls of fire." The glint in his eye as he quoted those lyrics should have melted that woman into a puddle of goo right then and there. The fact that she remained upright and even began moving with the music in a decidedly sinful slow dance was too impressive for words.

They danced through the chorus, sung by the full house, until the last verse began. He took a small, deliberate step back as he resumed his "Putting on the Ritz" performance. "Some balls are held for charity, and some for fancy dress." He gave that centerfold-quality woman a thorough head to toe visual inspection, returning to full eye contact with a lascivious grin. "But when they're held for pleasure, they're the balls that I like best."

Those baby blues of hers grew wide as saucers as she sucked in a sharp breath. Then she quirked one eyebrow up her forehead, her eyes narrowing slightly with a mighty wicked glint of her own as he continued.

"My balls are always bouncing to the left and to the right." For that split second between beats, the world seemed to suddenly stand still. The devilishly stunning woman and the silver fox of a Colonel couldn't be any closer with their clothes still on, and there were brilliant fireworks exploding in the miniscule space between their locked horns. "It's my belief that my big balls should be held every night!"

Naturally, the audience heartily sang along with the last chorus before erupting in a rousing ovation for this encore performance. As the melee disintegrated back to its standard level of rowdiness, the Colonel turned and caught the bespectacled guy just before he stumbled off the chair he'd been dancing on.

"Song's over, Daniel," the steadier of the men cajoled. "You can stop dancing now."

"Jus' tryin' to get'inna the swing o'things," the well-inebriated younger man slurred.

"I think you've had enough swinging for one night." The Colonel slung the other guy's arm over his shoulder and began guiding him towards the exit when he stumbled into that earlier-disgruntled Marine.

"Watch it, four eyes," the jerk barked.

The offender stopped stumbling in his tracks and looked the brute up and down. "Ya know, there're a few people who hol' th'unpop'ler 'pinion tha' Neanderthals still walk among us. I think you're th'one t'prove 'em right." The drunken man's barb was heavily slurred, but somehow deliberately firm at the same time, and was more than adequate in provoking the ire of the burly thug, who started to raise his arm as if to take a punch at the man. The Colonel's firm grip stopped him before he got too far, though.

"Easy, big guy," he placated soldier to soldier. "He's just had a bit much to drink. Not worth getting a court martial over, right?"

The irate grunt held himself frozen for a second before submitting to the superior officer. He shook off the restraining grasp and stormed away grumbling as the trio finally made their way out of the restaurant.

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To be concluded...


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